The Blackest of Black
by TheWrither'sNote
Summary: Steve has a problem. Actually, more than one. The first one is an old flame hounding him from the past. The second is teammates not leaving him alone. Third, life in general? Warning: MPreg, Male/Male, if you don't like, then I don't force you to read it. LokixSteve Rogers/Captain America.
1. Chapter 1

He ran faster than most men could imagine, still his breath was steady. The breeze of nighttime was relaxing on his face, and kept him going. He had to get away now, before-

"Steve! Steve, is that you? Stop!"

_-Damn it! _The voice, far too familiar, belonged to no other than the infamous Anthony Stark. But right now, he wasn't the usual playboy that he was known to be. He was Ironman on duty in the dirtiest parts of New York. A place Tony hated more than Nick Fury on a Monday morning, but he had to keep looking. Maybe tonight he would finally get him back home?

Steve ignored Tony and continued ahead. He had no desire of talking to him or any of his former teammates. Not right now or anytime soon.

This night hadn't been much different than most, but this time some flying smartass saw him. It wasn't like Steve had done anything wrong.

In fact the opposite. An apartment building had caught fire and because it was the cheap part of town, no one expected help for at least half an hour. Steve had tried to keep away, he really had, but in the end his strong sense of justice and need to help others when nobody else did, took over.

When he was done getting the shocked people out of their former home, he heard a fire truck in the distance. Slowly, so that on one noticed, he simply walked away. He had a special someone waiting at home, and God did he need sleep…

That was when the noise caught his ear. The sound of something racing through the air, like a small jet or an airplane. Steve knew better than to believe that, and began speeding up a little. Tony called him out, and he gave it his all to keep going unnoticed.

When he finally stepped inside his rundown-flat, locking it securely after himself, he sighed heavily and leaned his full weight against the door.

This time, it had been close. Far to close. Tony had nearly caught up with him, more times than he liked to count. He held the tears back, and tried to focus.

It had been so tempting to just stop and let Tony get to him. To talk back, explain why he had kept his distance for so long. He couldn't. How in the world did you explain THAT, without sounding like a total maniac? Until he could get a better explanation himself, he just had to leave the Avengers alone.

He missed his friends awfully much, but what choice did he have? He ran his hands through his golden locks. Damn it.

The quite sound of blankets being removed got his attention back on track. He slowly went into the living room. On the worn out sofa a small face looked right back at him, eyes sky blue, much like his own. The pitch black hair like the darkest of night, just before the sun rose for another day.

"Hey Daddy. Morning now?" –a groggy voice asked, and the little boy rubbed his eyes sleepily.

Steve couldn't help but smile. The only thing saving his sanity for the last couple of years, had been _him._

It always would be. He stretched his fingers and nuzzled the toddler's wild hair.

"No, not yet. Just go back to bed, Lucas, okay? I'll be here when you wake up."

Lucas looked doubtful at him, and pouted.

"Promisssess?"

"Yeah. I promise."

Lucas still looked suspicious, but did as he was told and laid back down.

Steve sat down in the only armchair in the room, too tired to sleep. Instead he recalled how he ended up like this; in a rundown apartment smelling like an alley, with a boy barely 2-years old, hiding from all and everything he knew.

It had been just before his mission. _The_ mission, just a few days before he fought Red Skull, before he forced the air plane into the ice and… and…

Well, it had been a great day. A warm one. His friends all celebrated that they only needed to destroy the headquarters of Hydra to be done and, hopefully, end the war. All had been out late to dance and drink, except him.

Steve sat for himself, all alone, not wanting to be found in an old tavern utterly destroyed by a bomb, they had been too late to stop. Glass and bricks lay all over the floor; no one had tried to clean the mess yet.

He starred irritated at his glass of lukewarm beer, sitting on the only unscratched chair left.

It wasn't fair. He had lost his best friend, Bucky, and he couldn't even drink himself under to forget it, not even for a second. Damn serum_… _ He had taken a shot anyway, of cause, it didn't work. It had only emptied his pocket a little more. Not that it helped him to sit here and feel sorry for himself, Bucky wouldn't have appreciated that either.

He had decided to get back to base and get some sleep before tomorrow, the mission would require all his focus when he felt slightly dizzy. _Funny_, he thought. _Is it an after effect of the alcohol, or…_ He tried to sit up which proved more problematic than expected… (he almost fell to the floor, only his dulled reflexes keeping him upright) What was happening?

He didn't have to wait for long to get the answer.

Firm steps from the former entrance could be heard, and Steve's head swayed to the side for a better view of who was coming. Not that it helped much, his gaze was getting fuzzy.

It was not someone he knew, that much was clear. Whoever it was wore a uniform, mostly in black and green. The skin was pale, the hair the darkest shade of black Steve had ever laid his eye upon. The figure was tall, and with elegant almost lazy steps the slender body, definitely male, approached him.

Now, the stranger only a few meters away, he could see the green orbs looking right back at him. The stare so intense Steve feared it would burn a hole through his chest.

"Good afternoon Steve Rogers, or do you prefer Captain of America?" The voice was unique, unlike anything Steve had heard before.

The male looked young, maybe in his late twenties, but he sounded a lot older. Wiser. The smirk on his face told you that he knew something you didn't, and it made a shiver run down Steve's spine out of discomfort.

"How do you know my name?"

The stranger chuckled and kneeled down in front of Steve, who tried to move away. He couldn't. His body denied him the power of moving of his own free will, he couldn't even look away from the stranger. His glance was too strong.

"Who doesn't? The mighty Captain America, protector of the less fortunate ones. The Soldier." The tone of the man in front of him sounded mockingly. As if he was telling a bad joke.

Steve finally broke free from the stare, only to have the stranger grapping his chin and forcing it back.

"Don't", he warned. No threats was necessary, the danger was in the word alone. The charming smile from a second earlier was far gone, his thin lips forming a barely visible line. He removed his smooth fingers, leaving Steve with a feeling of ice sinking into his skin where the stranger had touched him.

"What are you?"-Steve spat, glaring daggers into the chest of the man. The stranger smirked again, as if the situation amused him.

"Don't you worry yourself with details like that. You'll know soon enough."

The stranger raised his right hand and pointed at Steve's forehead. Steve looked confused at him, where after the man began mumbling something strange. To Steve it sounded like rubbish, but at the same time ancient and meaningful. Not that it made sense, but that was what he thought afterwards.

After that, everything went into darkness, and he only remembered fragments about what happened that day; the strangers surprisingly muscular arms wrapped around his waist, his voice, his demanding eyes and deceiving lips. Hands touching… Where they _definitely _shouldn't be touching!

He woke up in his own bed back at the headquarters, alone. He didn't hurt anywhere. The serum, making his body heal faster than any regular man, made sure of that, but he felt broken. As if something dear had been taking away from him by force. Something he didn't know he had, and he now felt vulnerable without.

His day went on in a haze, and when Steve looked back everything came to him in glimpses.

Invading the last Hydra base, Schmidt/ Red Skull, the blue cube of pure energy disappearing through the metal plane, his last words to Peggy… The crash…

Anyhow, he remembered waking up in a place looking like a hospital room, but he knew it wasn't. The radio beside the bed was on, and a raspy voice reported about an ongoing baseball championship. A match he had been at. The realization of being in the 21th century hit him like a train. It had all been so surrealistic the first couple of weeks.

Nick Fury convinced him to keep on fighting to protect Earth, his home. And so he did. But not alone.

On the road he meet the mysterious 'Natasha Romanov', a professional assassin, and good looking too with her crimson shoulder-length hair. Clint Barton aka Hawkeye, the best archer Steve knew, and a true genius. Bruce Banner, the Hulk. A surprisingly nice guy, but being the complicated person that he was Steve hadn't talked much to him. Anthony Stark… Did he even have to explain himself? Steve could be naïve sometimes, but when it came to Tony… That guy seriously got on his nerves. He was rich, and used a lot of his time bragging about being a clever playboy. He was a good man deep down, but it was often hard to get it forward into the daylight. (Almost as if being friendly damaged his image or something…) Thor… Well Thor being Thor, was close to be a fitting description of the Asgardian prince. Polite, a little straight forward, aggressive at times but his intentions were for the best of mankind.

Then _that _guy turned up out of the blue. _He, _the only one he had been relieved to leave in the 20th century, now stood there in front of him.

No words were able to describe how he felt. Shocked, sad, uncomfortable, _scared, _angry, _longing, _confused, _painful_… His insides were a mess, so he locked it away in himself.

The Asgardian, Thor's _brother _Loki, didn't say anything about the incidence, just smiled that creepy smile of his. Constantly.

Steve had to use all of his self-control not to march right in front of him, and demand some long deserved answers. It would only make the others ask questions that he by no means wanted to reply.

After the Avengers, and himself too, learned to do some real teamwork New York was safe once more, Thor caught Loki.

They kept him custody for a night before Thor would return him to Asgard for a proper punishment. No one was permitted to visit him.

Steve had done it anyway, naturally. How could he not?

Loki had been sitting on a bauble with his arms crossed, looking utterly bored when Steve approached him. He didn't even flinch.

He had taken his time to get things right so he wouldn't mess this up. He talked slowly and precise, hoping it would help. When he felt like he had said what he should, he waited for Loki's reply, which never came…

He tried to keep calm. Maybe the Asgardian hadn't heard him, maybe the force field in-between them absorbed some of the noise?

He began over again, louder, but it was the same result.

In the end he got agitated.

"You..! Why can't you just answer this and leave it be? All I want is to understand why and then I swear to leave you alone. Tell me!" Just before Steve closed the doors behind him, he heard a soft chuckle. If he had been unsure whether Loki had been the guy from that day, then he wasn't any more.

"What a compliment it is to know that you missed me somuch. Did I really make you feel _that_ good, dear captain?"


	2. Chapter 2

**Cap 2: Realization**

Steve had left Loki alone in the room with burning cheeks and a wild heart. It had been unbearable. He barely _knew _what had happened, and now Loki mocked him about it?

Loki had been safely sent back to Asgard with Thor the following day. Bound in chains and with a metal-device covering his mouth, Loki gave Steve a last stare, then… He was gone. And so was Thor.

Thinking it over, that had been his last time seeing Thor as well. (then again, Thor had been the only one to slightly notice his changed behavior around Loki, so maybe that wasn't so bad…)

Since then things had went on as you could expect: bad guys trying to take over New York (or the world in general) but all fell against the Avengers.

Then it happened.

The Winter Soldier showed up. No one knew who he was, except he wasn't amongst the ones saving the day… He was mysterious and only showed up rarely. But not once had they seemed to be capable of stopping him.

More than once had Steve heard his teammate's report of fighting against him, but they never won. Barely even slowed him down.

It was one of those rare times where you heard Natasha swear; _that son of a..! _ So it had to be bad.

While Steve sat on a café in front of the Stark Tower, (as Tony called it, the rest insisted on the Avengers Tower. If it was to irritate Tony or that they liked it better than Stark Tower, Steve was unsure…) something happened.

He was sitting and enjoying the sun and his coffee, when a feeling told him to move. Now! Being the only one outside the comfy shop that evening he jumped away from the table with ease. No danger was in sight, and he shook his head while frowning at himself.

_-That's overdoing it a little Steve, it was properly noth-_

BANG! The leftovers of a Toyota Carina now landed where he had been just seconds ago.

_-Okay… Maybe you DIDN'T overreact after all!_

Steve looked behind himself to see a man, completely dressed in black, run against him. His left arm was shining silvery in the sunlight while in the right he held a machinegun.

Steve didn't have time to think over why the guy, he guessed it to be the rumored Winter Soldier, didn't just try and shoot him, (why was it that he had left his shield at the tower again?) before he was tackled frontally.

His opponent was surprisingly strong. In no time the Soldier was over him, hitting his face and chest.

Steve, momentarily paralyzed by the strength in the punches he received, didn't act at all. Of course it hurt, but he had a feeling that his opponent was holding back.

Something glittering caught his eye just before it collided with the attacker's metal-arm with a *clunk*. The force of the energy beam hitting him sent the Winter Soldier into the air, hitting a large tree on the way down.

In no time the stranger was standing, ready for round two, this time going after Steve's savior. Looking up Steve saw Tony fly over him, make a salute, then concentrate on the Soldier who shot at him.

"You okay, Captain?" It was Natasha. She stood next to him with her perfect red hair, wearing her black suit and armed with a dangerously looking hand gun.

"Yeah, I think so. Is that who I think it is?"

Both looked at the fighting metal-armed-man and at the one he tried to get his revenge on. Tony stayed in the air, trying to attack his challenger from different directions and avoid getting hit himself.

"If you think of the Winter Soldier, then you are correct."

"What info have we got on him?" With Natasha being a part of SHIELD she might know something he didn't.

Sadly she shocked her head.

"To little I'm afraid. He attacks members of SHIELD, but that's about all we know yet."

In the meantime the favor wasn't in it for Tony. Somehow the Winter Soldier had forced him to the ground, and he was now beating him with all he got, the punches so precise and strong that it bended the metal plates of the suit.

Steve didn't have time to think; he just acted.

Somewhere in the background he thought he heard the Widow call his name, but if it was to stop or warn him, he didn't know.

He attacked head first against the Winter Soldier, not caring for the consequences. If Tony didn't get help now he would be dead in minutes.

Steve's plan worked. Tony was now left alone, the attacker barely glanced at him.

The Winter Soldier now focused on Steve, saw him coming. With ease he grabbed him around the neck in one hand. The one of metal.

Steve gasped, forcing the air down his into lungs. The only problem was, that now it was him who was in the focus again.

The soldier stared coldly at him, catching him with his eyes. Steve didn't look away.

His eyes went wide open; the shock evident on his face.

_-Can it be…? _The grip holding him loosened a little, enough for Steve to inhale sharply. Those eyes were doubtfully _his_ but how was that even possible? Then again, Steve himself had been part of the WW2, and yet here he stood. But still…

Before he had the chance to say a word an arrow flew past his ear, aiming for the enemy. It being the metal-arm the arrow fall to the ground, not making a scratch.

The Winter Soldier didn't make signs of wanting to move, he looked around. His glare was back, and on full force. Again Steve thought to himself, that the Winter Soldier had done little to no harm against him. Had _he _been what he was after?

"Let him go. Now!" The voice of Clint Barton aka Hawkeye, sounded from somewhere behind Steve. It was said calmly but with a hint of anger. If the Winter Soldier didn't let go of Steve, he would be shot.

Steve, still, had done nothing. He only looked the man in front of him over; shoulder long, brown hair. Pale skin, but nowhere as pale as the Asgardian God Loki, and those blue/greyish eyes Steve knew so well.

There were so many things he wanted to say, wanted to ask. But he didn't. He couldn't. As much as relief filled him, so did guilt. Could he have done more to find him? Something, ANYTHING?! His best friend, who he had thought to be dead, stood right there in front of him, and he hadn't known before just now?

Bucky let his hand fall, freeing Steve from his hold. His hand halfway down his pockets, when-

"Keep those hands of yours where I can see 'em!" This time Clint made no effort in sounding nice. Quite the opposite.

In a flash of movement, Bucky threw a smoke bomb towards them, leaving as the Avengers coughed in unison.

Natasha and Clint were at Tony's side confirming that he was indeed alive, just a little shaken up. Steve had no idea how he felt.

It was good that Tony was okay, and Bucky alive, but something felt… off.

A sudden crack, a current agony running down his spine, inside of him, made him bend over in pain. It was as if he had cramps, but he had never tried anything like this in his whole life.

"Steve, are you alright?" Natasha again. Steve forced himself to stand, not caring for the grimace he most likely wore.

"Yeah."

Natasha gave him the look, mentally saying she knew he lied. And not even convincingly. Clint looked from Steve to Natasha, feeling the tension between them.

"Guys, we have to get Tony to the Tower, now. As must as I enjoyed seeing his ass get kicked, I don't want Pepper's anger on the neck. So.."

"I'll take him." Steve heard himself say.

He easily lifted Tony up in his arms, feeling the cooled metal against his skin. He had only worn a t-shirt and the sinking sun told him that had been a mistake. Neither Clint nor Natasha said a word before they reached the lab. The pain inside of Steve's stomach steadily disappeared, overtaken by worry for the friend he held carefully in his grasp.

Bruce took a glance at Tony, and went after supplies. In the meantime Clint, Steve and Natasha together got the broken suit of off Ironman. Not an easy task, but what awaited them underneath was a horrible sight.

The few spaces where he didn't have bruises, he had cuts. (where in the world had Bucky hidden a knife, or had it simply been the metal parts hurting Tony?) He was covered in blood and was blue and purple all over… But he breathed. Thankfully he did.

As Bruce returned he ordered the others out, assuring them that everything would be fine, that he would tell JARVIS to let them know when Tony awoke again.

Steve quickly left for his quarters. He wanted to sleep and didn't even consider eating a little first. Then it returned; the bumping inside him, this time lighter and less painful. This was insane!

He changed his mind. Maybe a little snack would help keeping his belly steady. An apple a day kept the doctor away, wasn't that what you said now a days?

Not that it went well… He had barely taken a bite or two, when a wave of nausea hit him hard. He had only just reached the toilet when he began vomiting uncontrollably.

But… He_ didn't_ get sick. Not since the serum changed him had he felt anything like it. Or, there was this _one _time, but that had been under influence of Loki, so that didn't…

_Loki!_ Did this have anything to do with the trickster God? If the answer was 'yes', Steve swore to kill him personally.

Another bump caught his attention, again from his belly.

Okay, to resume the latest events; he had discovered that Bucky, his best friend, was alive. Check. Tony had been badly injured, but Bruce had insured that it wasn't anything he couldn't handle. Check again. He had felt these… jolts, and had felt sick after returning home. Was it all just a coincidence? A reaction of all that has found place for the day?

After the pain had slowly lessened, Steve brushed his teeth and went straight to bed, deciding to go see a doctor if it hadn't turned better in the morning.

. . .

Well, he didn't. He felt _worse. _His head was spinning and he had an enormous appetite. That is, when he could keep what he ate inside for more than a few minutes…

He considered his options: either ask Tony, (who had made an extraordinary recovery, and now acted as his idiotic self) and make himself into a guinea pig, and a laughing matter for getting sick so easily.

He could go to Bruce. Steve was sure Bruce would do his best to help, really. The problem was that Bruce and Tony both practically lived in their labs, so the chance of keeping it secret from Tony was close to zero.

He could go to a local clinic, but because of all the media this time around it wouldn't be in private.

A thought came to him. He had seen both Clint and Pepper use these machines…Laptops was it called? Like computers at his time, just smaller and (claimed to be) less complicated. Their functions were greater and they worked better.

Bruce had given Steve a quick explanation of how to use them, which went… acceptable. (Except that Tony had been laughing his ass of each time there was something Steve didn't understand, or had to try over again. This caused the 'lessons' in modern technology to be minimized into once a week)

Steve had no excuse for delaying it any further. He possessed one of those devilish devices, so he had no need of finding one first. (Not that Steve had used it even once since receiving it as a 'welcoming' gift from Tony for moving, forced, into the Avengers Tower like the rest of the team)

Luckily it had been the same model as the one Bruce got, so he knew how to use it.

Steve turned it on and got access for the 'net', uhmm… IN-ternet.

The thing Bruce called a 'start page', said in big letters: GOOGLE. When asked, Bruce called it a searching page; something to help answer random questions of things people wanted to know (much like Steve did at that time).

After spelling clumsily on the keyboard he clicked on 'enter', and waited to see what would happen next. A lot of references to pages involving the words _stomachache _and _sudden nausea, _popped up.

3 hours later Steve felt both confused and tired. Most of the information was useless, or something he already knew that it couldn't be.

Only _one _thing had mostly matched on him, but it couldn't be that either. After all, Steve was a man, he could by no means get…

_**Pregnant. **_The word almost glowed on the screen, and yelled inside of his head. He _had _felt strange, but no way. No. Not possible, never.

Irritated Steve turned the computer off, and stumbled against the bathroom. His stomach acted strange again…

A week later Steve hadn't been so fast to cast of the idea of pregnancy away. In fact, it seemed like the only thing in his mind.

He wasn't getting worse or better. But the bumping continued, waking him at night filled with wonder. He ate much of the same, peaches. And ONLY peaches (it seemed to be the only thing he could eat without wanting to vomit constantly).

He felt tired, and his mood turned from irritated to overly happy like a carrousel. (Tony had once called him a girl on her period, which had shut Steve up quite a bit)

Since seeing that article, whenever someone began a word with pr- he jumped into the air. If this continued, the others would know. And to avoid that, he had made himself a deal. If it wasn't it better before Sunday, then he would take one of those… pregnancy-tests. Even though the mere thought of it made his inner alarm scream ad him.

Sunday came, and as nature wanted it he didn't feel better. He pulled an old hoodie and sneaked out of the tower. Each second he expected one of his teammates to stand beside him, asking where he was heading. Luckily they didn't.

He walked fast in the now familiar streets, blending into the sea of people walking alongside him. All of them were faces he didn't know, and most likely never would.

He pushed that thought out of his head and focused on the road. He had (again with the help of that dangerous object) found a small, neutral shop which sold what he was looking for (Steve still thought it was difficult to just think the word aloud, and even now, 2 years later, he still found it easier to avoid it).

The shop didn't lay in the better nor cheaper part of town. Right in the middle, to be exact.

The building had been painted white years ago, but seemed more yellowish now and in need of a new layer. The door, uncolored and made of oaken tree, had a metal handle and the number 23 on top of it. If the sign: Clinic, hadn't been on top of it, then Steve most likely wouldn't have seen it.

On both sides were ordinary family houses, both in the same colors, just a tiny bit bigger in size.

Taking a steady breath, Steve walked in.

The bell rang as he stumbled over the doorstep, and the receptionist looked at him from behind the disk.

She was young, barely 17 from what Steve could tell, wore a pink t-shirt and had bright ginger-orange hair. Her face was covered in freckles and she smiled comfortingly, as if she could tell from afar how unsure he felt.

"How can I help you, sir?"

Steve looked surprised at her. The name-tag on her t-shirt said _Kathrine_. He thought the formalities such as "sir, mister and misses," had all been frozen together with him nearly 70 years ago. To think Kathrine still remembered, and used them…

When the girl sent him a worried glance, Steve shook his head and stepped forward.

"Uhmm… I came looking for a.. uhmm.." Instead of saying anything, he pointed at the test, which hung on a shelf together with alcohol-and ovulation-tests.

Kathrine smiled brightly and took one down from the shelf.

"This one? Is the girlfriend expecting?" The question in itself was innocent enough, but it made his stomach twist in unknown excitement.

"I think so, yes." She blinked at him, and scanned the test on the cash register, and Steve paid without even checking it. It didn't matter as long as he got a clarification.

"Are you married?"

"God forbid it!" Steve hadn't really been listening, but after answering he did. A heavy blushing spread itself across his face. He tried taking it back, but it was far too late for that. Kathrine looked slightly embarrassed.

"I-I'm sorry. I shouldn't have-"

"No, it's okay. Uhh, it's just. Even _if _the… test, is positive, then… I can't imagine getting married."

Kathrine thought about that a little, and the silence fell upon the shop.

"Don't you like her?" Steve was shocked. Not over the question itself, but… he didn't know. Not even once had Steve thought about if he liked, or disliked the trickster god. Did Loki look handsome? Yes. Was he appealing beside his appearance? For his personality? (If you forgot about his horribly big ego, and the fact that he thought Asgardians for more worthy than humans, then…) Yes.

Steve shook his head heavily. Had he just admitted to liking Loki? The same guy who had killed 70 people in barely 3 days, killed Coulson, and _**raped**_ him?

Steve walked towards the door, and before stepping outside he sighed; "I fear so."

Not long after Steve sat on a bench in the local park. He made sure that he was alone before reading the instructions on the pregnancy test.

Following them, he waited impatiently. The writings said to pee on a strip, put it into a plastic measure, and only wait 2 minutes for the results.

_Only, wait 2 minutes?!_ Somehow, that seemed like an eternity. Was it the sun making him sweat as a pig, or was it the nervousness? Shortly he considered taking of the big hoodie, but that wasn't an option. Then he would notice _that _again.

Yes, a little bump had appeared on his normally flat stomach. Nothing big, but Steve didn't doubt any longer. He just wanted to state the obvious, so the truth wasn't something he could run away from anymore.

Swiftly he looked over to the measure. And then he kept starring.

_I... Had an a feeling about this, but… I still can't believe it, _-Steve thought.

Positive. The test, meant for women, had somehow against the laws of physics ended up positive. He was expecting.

Without thinking any further, he threw the test into the nearest trash can, and ran all he could.

Before he knew it, he stood inside the little shop again. Sweat ran down his temple and he gasped for air. Not out of need, but desperation.

"Oh, back already?"

Steve simply nodded, agreeing silently.

He did as last time; pointed instead of talking, not saying a word.

Kathrine looked at the young man who fought to keep his breath under control.

_Guess the test was positive, _Kathrine thought to herself. He was far from the first to react like that.

Before he ran out she made a bet to herself about him coming again before long. When Steve had come the second time, Kathrine had been in the middle of putting the new medicine in the right places. So she picked up from where she had left it, and sighed.

Who was the lucky girl to have caught such a nice looking guy? Whoever it was, had to be a god to match his heroic appearance.

She stood with her back against the door, lifting a heavy package onto the shelf, when the bell rang again.

A smirk slit itself on her face.

"The same again?" She still hadn't turned.

"Yes, please." This time he had been halfway out of the door before she dared asking the question, which had bothered her since he returned the first time.

"Is it really that bad?"

Steve turned towards her and frowned. As if she first now realized what she had been about to say, Kathrine stopped herself.

"Come on. What was it that you wanted to ask?" Steve did his best not to sound forceful. Somehow he sensed that this was harder on Kathrine than she gave sign of.

"To have the chance of becoming a parent. Is it that bad?"

This wasn't really a question. Something much more personally laid behind it. Then it hit him.

"You can't..?"

Kathrine shook her head.

"And will never getting the chance to be." When she could see the guilt on Steve's face, she smiled halfheartedly at him.

"No worries, it can't be changed. Are… are you gonna keep it?"

"Yeah." Steve surprised both Kathrine and himself by the sudden answer. Under normal circumstances he would never have gotten pregnant. Most likely never gotten a child.

Not that he didn't want to, but being part of the Super Soldier-program had its drawbacks as well.

When it became known that he had gotten a child, every scientist in the area would want to examine it. Figure out if it, too, had the same extraordinary gift as its father. It would never be left alone until it died. Maybe not even then.

Being in the Avengers tower would make it impossible to hide for long. People would wonder, maybe a paparazzi would sneak in. Take pictures, ask questions. Maybe Loki would come back.

_That _particular thought scared him more than he would like to admit. Merely one hour ago he would most likely had said yes to an abortion. But now…

"So… You won't give it away? You'll keep it yourself? Alone?" Steve nodded.

"Hmm… If, I mean… If you ever consider asking for help, then you know where the shop is, okay Steve?"

He froze.

"How did you..?"

"You're face is all over the news. Didn't you figure I would recognize you?"

Not replying to that, he changed subject. Kathrine promised to help and offered him to stay at her place. He thanked no, not wanting her to get further involved, gave his word on keeping in touch, and walked back to the tower.

He waited a few hours and packed a bag of clothing and some money. He didn't like the idea of leaving without saying a word, but what else could he do?

Most likely even Clint would want to stop him, if he knew Steve had plans on moving out and leaving them.

The only thought helping him through, the thing making it easier to walk out of the building, and towards a much bigger danger, was the bump. The child. _His,_ soon to be, child.

He now stood in an alleyway, waiting. Not long ago had the rain begun falling down in big droplets. About the time _he _shoved up, Steve was soaked to the bone.

"It's unwise of you to be on your own, Cap." The voice made a shiver run down his spine, but Steve stood tall.

He glanced into the alley, barely able to skim the dark shade of a silhouette. A lightning not far behind him lit the alley for a second, revealing his watcher.

The cloth was the same. The attitude the same. The hair, the gaze.

Steve's legs began shaking from standing out in the rain for so long. He felt tired, and dizzy. And he had no idea how long he could keep upright.

"Bucky, I need your help."

_My voice. It sounds so… Strange. _That was the last thing running through his head, when his legs gave up on him, and he fell against the concrete head first.

Hands grabbed him, and before his blurry vision turned into complete darkness, he disappeared into a familiar grayish color.

…

Author's Note: Heyo! First of all, thanks for all you 100 people who have read my fanfic! It really means a lot, and this being my first fic makes it even better. ^^

I am planning on making more chapters soon, but since I have a life outside too (sad but true) then I won't promise anything. I plan on updating once at least every second week, but I don't guarantee for the length of each chapter.

My unofficial beta is RedLadyVixen, so please check her stories out as well.

If you, my dear reader, got any ideas, or wishes for this fic then feel free to note me. All suggestions are welcomed warmly!

But for now, thanks for reading, feel free to comment, oh! And thanks to those four fantastic people for setting my fic on alarm. You all get a mental cookie in each your direction ^w^


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